White Copper Round Double Fish Pendant

Fish sounds like the word for surplus, so a pair of fish is the old wish for plenty year after year. The motif is not rare on old objects: it turns up on basins, on trays, on the backs of mirrors, two fish curving around a centre, one left and one right. Some read it as yin and yang instead; the bend of the bodies does look like two lines holding each other, one dipping as the other lifts. Which reading came first is a question the scholars each answer differently. The people who make the things do not argue it; if it looks well, it gets used. Double fish are also paired with lotus or with ripples. This one adds nothing — just the fish, and clean.

The two fish take each other head to tail and close a circle, leaving the middle open. The scales are cut shallow, one overlapping the next; the tails taper to points, and the two points meet exactly. The outer ring is round and the inside is empty, so light passes through and a small bright patch sits at the throat when it hangs. The mouths are open, the slit cut deep, facing the opposite tail, and the ring comes round without a break; look at it long enough and it seems to turn. The rim is narrow, the bodies all but touching it, with little blank ground, and the effect is full.

The shape is formed in white copper and then trimmed. A little thickness is left along the edges of the fins so they are not thin enough to cut. The piece is round, the edge chamfered, and the back is flat when you turn it over, so it does not press into the skin. The fish are cut to the same depth on both faces, so either side can show. The hole in the middle is round and takes cord or chain, and its mouth is drawn in slightly so the cord does not shift about inside. The flat back is not dead flat; it hollows a little at the centre, so it does not go clammy against the skin.

Two options: the pendant alone, or with a sandalwood cord. The cord is dark, and against the cold white of the copper it reads as one deep tone against one bright one; the knot slides, so the length adjusts. On a slim neck the cord lies close, sitting against the side of the neck, and the pendant does not swing; a chain hangs with more weight and drops lower. Sandalwood cord smells of the wood for the first few days and then fades; if you do not care for it, take the chain. Pull one end of the sliding knot to tighten, then trim the loose end, but not too short.

Dust settles in the shallow channels of the scales, and in summer the sweat and oil at your neck fill them in until the pattern goes blurred. Take it off before washing, and dry-brush it once a week with a soft brush. Do not soak the sandalwood cord; it goes pale. If the cord stiffens, rub it between your palms — the oil in your hands softens it again over time. When the white copper dulls, wipe only the raised parts and leave the hollows; the scales read clearer for it. Worn at the neck for a summer, the ring that touches skin dulls first. Turn it round and wear the other face.